


The Baker Street Paradox

by unangel_the_unicorn



Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: 2 years after Sherlock's return, Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Boys In Love, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Not Beta Read, Post-Canon, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes and Feelings, Sherlock argues with himself, Top John Watson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-23 05:39:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4865129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unangel_the_unicorn/pseuds/unangel_the_unicorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Holmes and John Watson meet Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Baker Street Paradox

                It was a nice afternoon in the middle of spring. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson were coming back to London, after a case had them out of the city for a couple of days. The case wasn’t as interesting as Sherlock thought at first, but he did not complain, as he got to spend some more time with John. 

                Coming back in the forever busy city was both a good and a bad thing for Sherlock. It was good because he wasn’t made for peace and quiet, one more minute and boredom would have done what many of his enemies failed to do. He needed action, cases that put his mind to work, but that also meant less time spent with his dear doctor, and that was the not so good part.

                Sherlock loses himself in work, sometimes several days pass and he is so absorbed by the cases he works on that he rarely talks to John. John always says that he doesn’t mind it, that he understands why Sherlock is so attached to his work, but Sherlock knows that he minds it, of course he does, even Sherlock minds it sometimes. But nothing is ever going to change the situation, and they both accept that.

                But Sherlock tried to take his mind away from these things and focus more on the warm hand that was holding his. Who knows when they will get another nice moment like this one! The train was rapidly approaching London, and they will have to go back to the routine.

                They were soon in London, in a cab, heading back to Baker Street. The city was just as they left it, busy, loud, and full of mysteries waiting to be unrevealed.

                Back in their flat, they decided to go change in something more confortable. Although he and Sherlock have been together for about two years, they still kept their rooms, it was easier for each other to store their own stuff, and didn't have to change the bed that often, since they could always go to the other room. But John had a shock when he went upstairs in his room. It was empty! None of his things was there anymore! He went back down to find Sherlock, someone must have broken in. Was Mrs Hudson alright? Why didn’t Lestrade call? Sherlock already changed in a purple shirt and was sat in his armchair reading.

                “Sherlock! I think someone broke in while we were gone!” no answer and John was wondering how did he go into that deep state so fast. “Sherlock!” He finally looked at him, he was surprised.

                “What happened? I thought you left about an hour ago.”  John was confused.

                “Sherlock, we just came back ten minutes ago, and I think someone broke in because all my things are gone!”

                “John, don’t be ridiculous, nobody broke in, you took them, when you moved out, years ago. Are you alright? You worry me.”

                “I moved out, but came back about two years ago.. Don’t make me look like an idiot!”

                “No John, you didn’t! “ Sherlock got up from his chair and went next to John “Who did this to you? You can’t just forget your family after an hour.”

                John was lost, he had no idea what Sherlock was talking about.

                “You think something happened to me? What happened to you, to forget about me in just a few minutes?!”

                There was silence and they were staring at each other not understanding what was going on. Sherlock was trying to figure out what happened to his friend when a sound in the kitchen disturbed the quietness.

                “John, what about tea?”

                John froze. That was Sherlock’s voice, but Sherlock was right in front of him.

                “Sherlock?” He said as he took a step away from the man right next to him.

                “Yes. Something wrong with tea?” and so he comes in the living room and finds himself staring at a man that looks very much like him.

                 “Sherlock?”

                  “John?” 

                They exchanged a few looks and then they both tried to immobilize the intruder. It wasn’t easy, but he was outnumbered, and after a while he was on the floor and John was holding his hands at his back.

                “Who are you, and why are you here?” Sherlock said as he stood on one knee.

                “Apparently I am you. And if you are indeed me, then you are clever enough to know that I am telling the truth.”

                “That can’t be true! Only an idiot would believe that!” said John slightly twisting one of his wrists.

                “He is not lying, John, let him go. And I don’t think he has any idea what is going on here either.”

_"And here comes the idiot.”_   thought John as he freed the other Holmes hands.

                The two Holmes sat in the armchairs, face to face; John sat at the table looking at them, thinking. He could hardly tell which is which; the only difference was the colour of their shirts. His Sherlock had a white shirt, while the other had a purple one.

                What they all knew was that it wasn’t good to have two Sherlocks in the same room, or in the same city, or in the same world. It was a paradox, and a thing Sherlock hates about paradoxes is that they don’t make sense, the events related to a paradox are illogical, how did they all three end up in the same place was something they couldn’t understand.

                After a long silence, someone knocked at the door. They all looked at each other, but before they could react Lestrade was already in. He froze for a moment but then the curiosity brought him back to his senses.

                “What the hell is going on here?!”

                “Bloody good question!” John responded.

                “It can wait.” said Sherlock with the purple shirt “What brought you here, Lestrade?”

                “We think we have a murder, but we don’t have a body. In this late afternoon a foot was found at a theatre. A ballet group was doing a repetition for a show that was supposed to take place in two weeks, and they found the foot of a ballerina in the backstage. We all think it belongs to the missing star of the show, but we need to find the body to be sure.”

                “A ballerina with one foot shouldn’t be that hard to find, even for Scotland Yard.” Said John’s Sherlock on a sassy tone.

                “Apparently it is." Lestrade answered sassy.

                Sherlock with the purple shirt took his phone out and started texting, the other Sherlock was thinking while John and Lestrade were waiting a bit confused.

                "Nothing." Said Sherlock with the purple shirt.

                "Did your men search around the river?"

                "Don't know, probably."

                It was strange for John to acknowledge the existence of two Sherlocks and the fact that they are different from each other, especially in moments like this when they have the same spark in their eyes that made them look even more alike.

                "Tell them to." Sherlock with the purple shirt said as he got up from his chair and went to get his coat. “You two stay here, if Scotland Yard finds the body go, see what the body can tell us, I will go and inspect that foot." And he went out the door like a storm, he finally got an interesting case! But he was also glad to get away from that weird situation for a moment.

                "Look, I'll go and if we find anything I'll text you."

                "Not so fast inspector!" Said Sherlock. “What can you tell us about the missing ballerina? John take your seat, Lestrade, please take a seat as well."

                “Her name is Marine Berger, she is a 24 year old French ballerina. She came to London with her brother a few years ago. She has been part of the ballet group, and was one of the best ballerinas, and we think that this is what could turn her into a victim, she always had the best roles in the plays, and became more and more famous in the past few years. Some other ballerinas may be jealous.”

                "So you think one of the other ballerinas hired someone to kill her." Said John.

                "If she turns out to be the victim, we think so, yes."

                "She could have been killed without having her foot cut, who did this was trying to tell something.." And so Sherlock started thinking and John and Lestrade suddenly felt like they are alone in the room.

                "John, why are there two of them?" John understood that Lestrade trusted him, in that moment, maybe even more than any of the two Sherlock, John thought that it was because he was the only John Watson in the room, but for John that wasn't the Lestrade he knew, something was different about him, but he had no idea what.

                "We are still figuring it out.. I am just as curious as you are!"

                "This world is not big enough for two of Sherlock Holmes!" He got up and prepared to leave. "I'll let you know if we find something." And so he left.

                John tried to think about the case, but they knew too little about that; he wasn't Sherlock to be able to build all sort of theories in his head, and the presence of another Sherlock in the same city wasn't easy to accept. He started thinking about the existence of another John Watson, but what worried him most was his absence. Where was he, dead? No, the other Sherlock said he left not long before they arrived. Left where? He didn't find John's stuff upstairs. There were so many unanswered questions in John's head, so he went to make himself some tea. Everything started to seem normal, sitting at the table, drinking his tea, his beloved Sherlock in his usual place, still thinking; everything seemed to be a dream, but he knew the truth.

                John lost track of time, he was in really deep thoughts; the knocks in the door brought him back to reality. He went to the door and found a man holding a piece of paper, apparently Lestrade sent them the news. Sherlock came very fast behind John and took the message, he was so very excited about what the police found.

                "Take your jacket John, they found her! The game is afoot!" John held a laugh and got ready as fast as he could.

                In a short time they were at the place indicated in the message, somewhere by the river Thames. Even though it was the middle of spring and it had been a good sunny day, after the sun set it got cold and a chill wind was coming from the river.

                Lestrade was there, he told them about how some agents found the body of the ballerina; apparently it was in fact miss Berger. She was still alive, but the doctors said she lost a lot of blood and has been on that small beach for a few hours. John kept on listening as Sherlock took out his flashlight and went in the direction of the ambulance that was still in the street. He looked down and then he went along the beach like he was searching for something in the sand. Lestrade and John looked at him trying to understand what he was after, but they didn't have a clue. Sherlock stopped for a while, looked at something in the sand then kept going to the street. The ambulance left and not long after Sherlock returned to the group looking satisfied with his findings.

                "She has been carried here by a man, not very tall and not very athletic. He was in a hurry, didn't have a plan for where he would drop her, he was coming from that way and thought this was a good place. He stopped immediately, the marks from the tires are quite fresh. Maybe he thought that if he lets the body here it may look like she has been thrown into the river and ended up on the shore, but yet he left her where the sand is drier, further from the river. And that is very interesting, we are missing something here."

                "Maybe she pulled herself where we found her." Lestrade said. "Maybe he left her closer to the water."

                "There is no sign of anything like this. If she dragged herself to the place where your men found her, then we would have seen the trace, but there isn't any. "

                "Were there signs of violence?" John asked.

                "Just a wound in the head, that was the only visible one." If there will be any new informations after the doctors take care of her, I'll let you know like I did tonight. Tried to call you, but the other one answered… he suggested the letter."

                "Thank you Lestrade." Sherlock said. "Hopefully he found something that could speed up the investigation."

                They went back to Baker Street thinking the other Sherlock was there, but he wasn't. It was getting late and John was hungry, Sherlock was still thinking, therefore food wasn't a priority. John ordered something to eat, and ordered something for Sherlock too, hoping he will change his mind. John was tired so he decided to go to sleep. Sherlock was siting in his chair when John went to place a kiss on his temple. Sherlock held his breath when he felt John soft lips on his skin. There weren't many things that were able to distract him from his work, but John was definitely the most important.

                "I'm going to sleep, it's been a long day."

                "Yes, it was. Good night John." And with one hand he held John's face and kissed those soft lips of his. He was sweet and worm and so good for him. It didn't last long. Sherlock wanted to kiss him again and again, then go upstairs and get themselves lost in each other, but he was on a case, and as always, had to keep all the other things for later.

                In a few minutes John was already in bed. Sherlock was waiting for the other one to return. While waiting he started doing some research about the ballerina and her life. He looked for anything that could turn her into a victim, didn't find much, but found other interesting facts that made him look at the case from a different perspective, but he still needed more informations, and he hated waiting.

 

 

                In the morning John expected to find Sherlock next to him in bed, but Sherlock was already gone when he woke up. He was a bit disappointed that he couldn't roll on the other side and give his dear Sherlock a kiss, and then having Sherlock's long arms around him for a few minutes of silence. He didn't think about it too much and he did his morning routine as usual, and then went downstairs where he found the two Sherlocks. He had no clue which is which; one was wearing a white shirt, while the other was wearing a dark blue one. They were in the middle of a talk and seemed relaxed, but they weren't as relaxed as they seemed.

                "Morning!" said John as he sat on the couch.

                "Tea?" asked the one with the white shirt.

                "Yes, that would be good. Did you two find anything about the case?"

                "Solved it! It was the brother." said the other one.

                "Why would he do something like this to his sister?" John asked shocked.

                "Because she asked him to." continued Sherlock with the white shirt. "While studying the foot yesterday I found that is was cut with very much care, apparently, her brother had some medical experience. Also in her blood I found azathioprine which is a powerful arthritic. She has a degenerative bone condition, probably had only a year or two of dancing left. She couldn’t bear to be remembered as someone who was defeated by the disease, now she will be known as the ballerina that never got to show the world all she had."

                "It's crazy how far someone would go for fame!" John said.

                “I was thinking” said Sherlock with the white shirt “about the problem that you two have, and I think I know someone that might be able to help. Have you got the chance to meet the Doctor?”

                They both looked strangely at him.

                “I assume not.” He continued. “I will call him, and see what he has to say. Until then we might need to sort some things out. I am sorry you two had to share the room last night, but the space here is not enough for us three.”

                “Don’t worry about that, we don’t mind it, we’ll be fine like this.” Said Sherlock with the dark blue shirt.

                The other Sherlock looked at them for a while, analysed the situation for a few minutes and then asked Sherlock.

                “Why?”

                John didn’t understand what he was talking about at first, but his Sherlock was very observant on the other's thoughts.

                “Because it is the best way to be. If I am you, it doesn’t mean I have to be like you, and make the same decisions.”

                “But… the sentiments?”

                “Undeniable.”

                "Now that we're at it" said John understanding what they were talking about "It would sound so stupid, but where is the other… me?"

                "Right now? Probably at work."

                "Where is he, like why doesn’t he live here anyone, I meant."

                "He's home. He has a family to take care of, why would he still be here?"

                "Family?" John was shocked. He couldn't believe he was talking about himself, or a version of himself and yet it looked like that John Watson they were talking about had nothing of him, he never really took seriously the idea of a family, but here he was.

                "You.. he married Mary Morstan about two years ago, they have a child together. I see you chose a different way in life."

                "Mary..." John started thinking about things that were between him and Mary, before and after Sherlock came back. He never thought about marriage, he cared for her, but never thought about going that far. He couldn’t handle all those informations, he wanted to meet the other John and ask him why he took that decision. He got lost in thoughts.

                John started thinking if things could have been different and he started remembering..

 

 

                He remembered after _the fall_ he hated himself for not telling Sherlock what he felt, somehow he never really knew himself, but he was aware that he would never see Sherlock again, and that everything was lost. Then Mary came and made him feel better, took his mind away from the pain. But then Sherlock came back, it looked like a miracle, like the heavens heard him and sent his beloved back to him. He spent a few weeks being scared of telling Sherlock everything, scared he may not feel the same, because he is Sherlock Holmes, married to his work. But one night John couldn't endure the mental sufferance that he was putting himself trough; so, in the middle of the night, he got dressed and went to Baker Street.

                Sherlock was still up, and came downstairs to open the door to John. He thought something wrong happened, but John told him everything was fine, and the                y just needed to talk about some important things. John had to admit that he enjoyed seeing Sherlock's face when he had no clue what was so important that he had to come for a visit in the middle of the night.

                John was trembling, his palms were sweaty. He tried to find his words but his mind was empty. He was sitting in his chair and Sherlock in his. He looked at Sherlock, tall and pale, like a statue of a Greek God staring at him confused. They stood in silence staring at each other for a while as John tried to figure out what to say.

                "John, are you sure you are fine?"

                Sherlock's words echoed in his mind, his voice so deep. John knew that he couldn’t draw back now. He opened his mouth and words came out like a wave.

                "Sherlock, I needed to tell you something for a very long time, but didn't find the courage to... because your presence in my life is priceless and I don't want to lose you again. But I can't keep going like this, I lied to you, and Mary and everyone, even to myself, for too long, I just can't do this anymore. I can't... I don't find it easy.. this sort of stuff... But... I have feeling for you Sherlock; more than a man should have for his best friend! I needed to let it out.. to let you know.."

                Sherlock stared at John for a while not just confused, but also shocked. Any puzzle in the world was a trifle compared to what was going trough his mind at that moment. At first he assumed he didn't understand what John said, but then he thought again, and he realised that he did understand, and that was the most complicated part. He didn't know what to say, what to do with that information.

                They stared at each other for a long time, both lost in thoughts.

                "John.. I don't know what to say. Would you give me time to process all of this..?"

                "Yes... Of course… Take as much as you need.."

                John was scared, scared of losing Sherlock once again.

                "Sherlock, can I stay here for tonight? I can't go back to Mary, not tonight."

                "Yes, if the couch suits you.."

                "It will do."

                After that night John decided to breakup with Mary, had to come up with some weird reasons for this, he didn't find the strength to tell her the truth. In the next few weeks he saw Sherlock about four times when he called him related to a case. They didn't talk much, Sherlock asked John about work and how he was doing, but the rest were all talks about the case they were working on.

                Until one late evening when John got a text from Sherlock:

 

                                _Could you come to Baker Street tonight? -SH_

               

                Of course he could, every time he got a text from Sherlock, even if it was just a case, he never missed the chance to see Sherlock.

                Miss Hudson was already in her room, so Sherlock opened the door for John, again. They both went upstairs and sat in their chairs once again.

                "A new case?" John asked.

                "No, not tonight John. I think tonight we should talk, we avoided this lately."

                "I thought your silence was a very good answer to what I told you that night, and honestly, you are not a sentimental person, why would I expect anything else..."

                "Yes, why would you.." There was a long moment of silence, and then Sherlock continued. “That is the problem John, not just you, but everyone considers me a machine of some sort. But you see, it would be even stranger if I was sentimental, a romantic, it contradicts completely with my work. But I am not that cold John, look, take my pulse."

                John did just as Sherlock told him to. He felt the hot blood running fast through his veins, then took his hand, it was hot and sweaty. John stood like that staring into Sherlock's eyes. He couldn't believe it.

                "I understand now how you must have felt that night, John. I have to tell you that I don't think I could ever give you very much, but I would give you all that I am capable of, if that makes you happy."

                John got up his chair and kneeled next to Sherlock's still holding his hand. He never dared to imagine a moment like that, he was trembling.

                "As long as I have you I don't care about anything, just to know that at the end of every day I find you is more than enough for me, Sherlock."

                And so he went for a kiss. Sherlock wasn't ready for that; he froze when John's soft lips pressed on his. Slowly he closed his eyes, relaxed and enjoyed it. John expected it to feel like kissing a statue, but it was worm and sweet. It felt like time stopped and they kissed forever and a day, and it was still the best feeling in the world.

                When they opened their eyes they both looked different, worriless, happier.

                "John.. That was... It felt good."

                "I know, you gave me shivers."

                Sherlock smiled thinking of that. The unexpected happened and he was happy. Then and there he looked into John's eyes and knew he found peace.

                "Don't misunderstand me John, but would you spend the night here.. with me?"

                "I'll sleep on the couch."

                "No, John, I think you already know that that is not a very good place for sleep."

                They ended up in Sherlock's bed, sleeping in each other's arms. John remembered waking up in the middle of the night thinking it was all just a dream, but then he felt Sherlock's arm around his body and smiled in the dark like a teenager, he felt so lucky then, and every night that followed.

 

 

 

                John got up and went upstairs, still thinking about all the madness that they were into, and so the two Sherlock were alone and having tea.

                "How could you let something like this happen? I don't know how that could be a solution that I could ever come up with!" Sherlock with the white shirt was kind of mad at the other one and very confused.

                "Told you already. He came here one night, told me everything, I was just as confused as you are now, but I started thinking about it later and it took me a while, but I came to the conclusion that the sentiments were mutual."

                "Maybe he was just confused. Maybe he hates himself now for not getting the chance to have a family."

                "How could you say that? Maybe John Watson you know is not the one I know, but they can't be that different. Maybe John is not an expert in our field, but he is really good at understanding feelings, something that we failed so many times, plus he had two years to think about everything, I don't think he is or ever was confused about it. Right now he is very nervous about this situation, and who would blame him, I don't like it either!"

                "Then maybe you were confused."

                "How would you know? Have you ever thought about any type of romantic relationship? Of course not, why would you! But then one day I had to and I did, and that was the conclusion that I drew. And I never regretted anything. Just because in your life things were different, that doesn’t make us confused about out decisions. I think you just try to convince yourself that a relationship it never anything else but confusion."

                "Why would you think that?"

                "Because I thought about that myself, but at the end I faced that fact that I was wrong. I was a sad man, and don't tell me you are not, don't tell me you never missed John, even just like a friend, because I know you did, because I did. How could you forget those two years when you were, we were presumed dead? Didn't you feel anything when John saw you on the pavement, covered in blood? Didn't you feel his pain? Didn't you want to stop everything and tell him everything was fine? "

                "I will go out, I will also call the Doctor, hopefully he can take you two back to your own reality. Being alone with my thoughts is what I do most times and I have to say that I like it, but being alone with myself is annoying."

                And so he put his coat on and went out the door.

                Left alone, Sherlock reached for the violin and started singing random pieces.

                "It's been a while since I last heard you play the violin. No more cases?"

                Sherlock turned around and saw John standing at the door. He quickly examined John and realised he wasn't his John Watson. He hoped they will not get to meet him as well, that situation was complicated enough. He didn't know what to tell him, the other Sherlock was out, would this Watson believe him if he claimed that he isn't the Sherlock he knows? A part of him was so confused, that man looked like John, somehow, he was in fact John, but not his John, this one was more of a stranger, but he felt like he can trust him, maybe because he looks familiar, or maybe because the other one trusts him.

                All these were going through Sherlocks mind. Him mind was loud while his limps were silent.

                "Sherlock? What is going on? Are you on a case after all?"

                "No, not at the moment, solved one in the morning. I have other things on my mind."

                "What is it? You know, I can't read minds, that are also your field."

                "I don't read minds, John, it just observation and logic, and knowing the person also helps. Look John, I trust you so I will tell you."

                "Yes, good. What is it all about?" John sat in his chair as he was waiting for Sherlock to do the same.

                "I am not Sherlock, I mean I am, but not the one you know, I am another.. As stupid as it sounds coming out of my mouth it is the truth. There is also another you upstairs."

                "Are you doing drugs again?"

                "No, all I told you is true."

                "How could I believe such a thing?"

                Sherlock smiled.

                "You know I am good at proving impossible things." So he went to the door and called John. A part of him really wanted the two John Watson face to face.

                When John came in, he found himself staring at Sherlock and himself. He was shocked, but the other one looked much worse.

                "Damn you Sherlock! Always being right. But how can this be real? How can you be me?"

                "Good question!" said Sherlock's John.

                "The other one said he will contact a man call the Doctor in order to help us solve this." said Sherlock.

                "This is a situation that only he could solve. He talked once about other dimensions that are slightly different of the one we know, but never expected this!"

                "Who is this man?" Asked Sherlock.

                "He's not really a man, he is an alien, a Time Lord; he travels through time and space in his space ship called The Tardis."

                "An alien on Earth?" said the other John.

                "He doesn't exist in your dimension? Is this the difference between this world and yours?"

                "Probably, but it is not the only one." Answered Sherlock.

                "I shouldn't ask, these are not things I should know since I should have never got the chance to talk to myself from another dimension, but what other things are different there?"

                Sherlock and his John looked at each other and had what looked like a silent conversation, and then Sherlock replied:

                "It's best if you don't know."

                "Yes, of course. I usually come around to see Sherlock, but since he is not around I will go. Would you tell him I have been around?"

                "Yes, we will. Goodbye John." Said Sherlock.

                John could still hear the other's steps going downstairs, so he quickly went after him.

                "John!" He said to him, to himself somehow.

                "Yes. What is it?" They were face to face, Sherlock's John couldn't believe how strange that was, like your own reflection stepped out of the mirror.

                "I need to ask you something."

                "Go on. Don't get me wrong, but I really don't like this."

                "I know me neither. But I really want to know. Why did you choose Mary?"

                "What? Because I love her, she means a lot to me! Why did you?"

                "I didn't. I didn't even think about it, until today when Sherlock told me you are married. I hope you three are happy."

                "We are, now if you don't mind I’ll leave." And so he did, without looking back.

                After he left, John came back in the living room.

                "How does it feel to meet yourself, John?" Said Sherlock.

                "Not right. I can't even say he is me.. It's so confusing, this entire situation, I mean."

                "Yes, but it will be over soon... I hope."

                They spent the rest of the day trying to get their minds busy so that they will not think of the situation they were in.

 

 

 

                John was in the cab on his way home when he saw Sherlock on the street. Hoping that it was the one he was looking for earlier and he wasn't very busy, he asked the driver to stop. He ran on the street trying to reach Sherlock.

                "Hey, where are you going so fast?"

                "Oh, hello John. Nowhere really, I just keep myself busy by doing random deductions. Have you been running?"

                "Yes, followed you! I've been in Backer Street, what the hell is going on?"

                "I was hoping you don't. I am not sure. Do you have time for coffee?"

                "Yes, I do."

                "Excellent! We can talk there."

                Sherlock went into the first coffee shop he saw and sat at a table right next to the window.

                "So.. Did you call The Doctor?" said John after his coffee arrived, Sherlock didn't want anything, he was just staring out on the street.

                "Yes, he said he will come, but as always he was vague about the time when this will happen."

                "I presume you want them gone."

                "In terms of crime investigation it is good to have a capable conversation partner, I am talking about Sherlock, sorry John. But when it comes to anything else it is absolutely annoying, especially when a version of yourself is reproving you."

                "I'll take that as a yes. But I am glad to say that the other me, oh my God, it sounds so weird! Well he didn't criticize me, but he was acting strange. He asked me if I am happily married."

                "I was sure he has some regrets!"

                "About what?"

                "He didn't tell you, did he?"

                "Sherlock, could you tell me what are you talking about? Is it about the fact that he didn't get married?"

                "Part of it, yes; but he didn't tell you why."

                "No, but something tells me you will."

                "You are not going to like it."

                "Just say it!"

                "Very well! John didn't get married because he and Sherlock are in a relationship."

                "Bloody hell! Tell me you are lying!"

                "I wish!"

                "For a long while people thought I was gay and I always denied it, and now the universe throws a gay version of me right in may face!"

                "I wouldn't say gay, but rather bisexual."

                "Stop being so smug! Let's just hope everything will be back to normal soon and from now on, we don't talk about it anymore. But probably it will be on my mind for a while."

                John drank his coffee as he looked out on the street, it was afternoon, the city was busy and people were running from one place to another as they always do. He tried to keep his mind busy, but he wasn't Sherlock.

                "The other one mentioned a case you solved in the morning, what was it about?"

                And so Sherlock started talking about the case paying attention to all details. They spent hours in that coffee shop, talking. The sun was setting when Sherlock got back to Backer Street.

 

                Later that night Sherlock was in bed reading a book he started just a few hours before, while John was taking a shower. Sherlock tried to focus on the book, but his mind was busy with other things. When John came back and sat next to him, Sherlock couldn’t hold his eyes on the page, so he closed the book, putting it aside.

                "John, after the events of today, I want to ask you something."

                "What is it Sherlock?"

                "John, do you regret not having a family, do you regret choosing me instead of Mary?"

                "Why would I think that? Why would you think that?"

                "Because the other John seemed very happy with his life, married with a child, while..."

                "Sherlock, I am happy too. You are my family, and I don't regret anything about us. Although you don't want to hear me say this because you think love it's a complex idea and expressing it in just three words is..."

                "Absolutely insufficient, and..." continued Sherlock.

                "Yes, that! Even so, I love you, I could never see myself building a family with Mary, that was his choice, but you are mine. I really hope you are just as happy as I am, and I hope that somewhere in your complex definition of love you also include my name."

                "I am, John, I am very happy to have you as part of my life, and you know that I would do anything for you, your safety and your happiness."

                "I know, my dear." John smiled as he pulled Sherlock into a kiss. This wasn't a soft kiss, this was powerful one, full of passion and desire that turned into lust.

                John climbed on top of Sherlock, running his fingers through Sherlock's dark curly hair, while pulling his head on the back and kissing him with thirst. John could feel Sherlock's erection, and was sure Sherlock could feel his pressing on the lower part of his abdomen.

                "John.." said Sherlock while John started kissing his neck, his voice was rough.

                "Yes, Sherlock?" John whispered.

                "Take me tonight, would you?" whispered Sherlock. John was wondering if Sherlock was aware that his deep voice whispering in his ear was turning him on, let alone the thought of fucking Sherlock.

                "As you wish." John smiled as he took of Sherlock's t-shirt and dragged him so he would lay on his back as John kissed every part of his pale soft skin.

                John was so happy to get to be the one in control of Sherlock's body and pleasure him. Usually, Sherlock wanted to be the one in control, and he was very good at it, he knew how to drive John mad and give him some of the best orgasms. But, sometimes, Sherlock wanted it differently, and John was always glad to hear that. Every time he wished to make Sherlock feel better than ever, and tonight he wanted to go slow.

                John has been sucking on Sherlock's nipples for a few minutes, driving him mad. Sherlock's moans were a pleasure for John, but he didn't want the other Sherlock to hear them, so he constantly reminded him not to be too loud.

                Slowly, John's kisses went lower and lower on Sherlock's abdomen, John took Sherlock's pants off and then he took off his. They were both hard, John wanted to touch Sherlock just as much as Sherlock wanted, but John had to remind himself to go slow. So he slowly kissed Sherlock's thighs getting close to his cock but without touching it.

                "Oh, come on, John!" said Sherlock, and John smiled.

                "Not yet my dear."

                John kissed him deep, their tongues meeting and making them both desire the other even more. Sherlock's nails were digging into John's back as John's were placed around Sherlock's head. John pulled back and looked into Sherlock's eyes. He loved to see him like that, craving. He was fascinated by Sherlock's mind, him abilities of deduction were incomparable. He was in love with the look on Sherlock's face when he had to deal with humans and he seemed so lost, he loved Sherlock in the early mornings when he was still asleep and the sunlight would land on his peaceful face, he loved Sherlock when he was on a case and his mind was looking for clues while his body was still; John liked to watch him in moments like that, but he had to admit that more than anything, he liked this Sherlock, lost in carnal pleasure, asking for more. John felt Sherlock very present in those moments, his mind wasn't busy with anything else, it was only thinking of what John did to him. John knew he was very selfish but he couldn't help it. He loved to have Sherlock only for himself, away from the rest of the world.

                "Turn around." John whispered in Sherlock's ear.

                He did as he was told.

                "Have I told you how irresistibly beautiful you are? Because you are! I can't help myself but kiss every inch of you." And so he did, moving slow from Sherlock's neck and down his spine. He grabbed Sherlock's ass massaging the muscles and then spreading him. He sat in between his legs gently pressing his tongue on his hole, slowly going up and down while holding Sherlock still with a firm grip on his ass. Sherlock was shivering at John's hot and wet touch on his hole. He heard John moan while licking him and spreading him wider, he was enjoying it as much as Sherlock was. Every move Sherlock made and every moan he could give made John want him even more; his cock was hard and eager.

                 As much as Sherlock enjoyed it, he felt like he couldn't take it anymore, his cock was hard and precome was licking on the sheet underneath him. He moved his hand so that he could touch himself, but John stopped him.

                "I won't let you do that, not yet." Sherlock was turned on even more by the cold air in his sensitive wet hole, now that John was bent over his body. But Sherlock also liked when John was strong-minded, it reminded him of the fact that he was a soldier; he loved to imagine John as being powerful and in control, especially in control of his body.

                "Fuck, John! Then touch me yourself."

                "Don't worry, will get there."

                John sucked on his fingers and then slowly pushed one inside Sherlock, moving it in and out. Sherlock gasped as he felt John, it wasn't much, but it was good, very good. John pushed another finger in and pushed them dipper, massaging his prostate gland. Sherlock moaned as he sank his face in the pillow and his feet were shuddering. He arched his back as John kept going while trying to hold him still with his other hand.

                Sherlock started moving his hips, trying to synchronize with John, but then John pulled out his fingers. Sherlock felt shivers all over his body, it almost felt like pain. He couldn't move, or think of anything, he wanted John inside him, his whole body was asking for him.

                John, trembling of excitement, got out of bed and looked in his luggage for the bottle of lube and a condom. As he found them, he went back to bed and after he rolled the condom on his cock he turned Sherlock on his back again. He liked to see Sherlock's face, see him give in, lose control. He applied the lube on him and on Sherlock's still sensitive hole and slowly pushed in. Sherlock gasped and arched his back as John's cock went deeper inside him.

                "Come on John! Fuck me deep and fast!.... Mmm.. Yes! Fuck, John you are so good! John..."

                He covered Sherlock's hot mouth with his, pulling him in a wet deep kiss. John's arms were shaking. So he put his left hand on Sherlock's mouth and his right on his cock; as he was pushing, he was also touching him. Sherlock closed his eyes and let out a loud moan that John's hand blocked. As he came in John's hand his body was paralyzed by the powerful orgasm, but John didn't stop yet, we was close, very close.

                Sherlock took John's hand away from his mouth and whispered to John:

                "Come for me, John. I want you to come inside me."

                "Fuck, Sherlock! Fuck!.." Sherlock pressed his lips against John's as he came.

                His numb body fell on Sherlock, who wrapped his long white arms around his beloved. They were both out of breath, sweaty and tired.

                "Damn it, John, that was one of the best we ever had. We should do this again!"

                "Tonight?" asked John with a smirk. Sherlock giggled, that didn't happen very often, but it that moment he was relaxed and happy.

                "Maybe not tonight, we are both tired, but in the future. Maybe, I could do something like this to you, would you let me?"

                "Mmm, I will do as you please."

                They cleaned themselves up and returned to bed after they put their night clothes back on. John could still taste Sherlock in his mouth, he smiled thinking of everything that he was doing just a few minutes before. John fell asleep not long after, but Sherlock was still awake, he was happy, partially because of the sex, but mostly because he knew the other Sherlock was wrong, that John really cared for him, he _loved_   him. And also felt something for John, something even more powerful or intimate than sex, a type of trust and care and also a deep and strong need, not desire, not lust, but need of having John close. That is a brief resume of Sherlock idea of "love". He was up for a while just thinking, of John, of him, of everything and then he fell asleep.

 

               

                As the days passed after that night, they all hoped that The Doctor will appear soon, but weeks passed and there was no sigh of him. The flat was crowded, after a few days of successfully hiding everything from Mrs Hudson, she found out by accidentally walking it and seeing double. She didn't like the situation, things of this sort were not supposed to happen, it felt very wrong, but she trusted Sherlock on the fact that everything will be over soon.

                Sherlock hoped that everything will be over sooner, the two of them had constant arguments on various subjects from cases to ideas and so on. They ended up hating each other, and John was stressed out by the entire situation because he was usually caught in the middle in this stupid disputes, let alone the fact that he had to add some restrictions to his daily routine, even to his personal life. As he found out in the morning that followed his and Sherlock's _romantic night,_ the other Sherlock got back early that evening and heard them. Apparently, he doesn't like the idea of their relationship, so asked them to stop doing anything he could see or hear. John hated it, because when Sherlock wasn't on a case they had more time for themselves, and he wasn't, apart from some times when the other Sherlock let him take a few easy cases, he was free. They were going out only at night, got to spend more time on their own, it was fun running around London at night, kissing on dark and lonely streets, but it wasn't and ideal night out.

                Sherlock hated his _romantic double_   because he was the opposite of everything he ever thought of himself. He was Sherlock Holmes, two words that to him seemed to be the universal definition of a person who is focused on his work more than most other things, that treasures the power of the mind and constantly cultivates it. To him his body was the tool of the mind, the chest that held the most valuable possession of a human, the brain, the mind. He wasn't just a body, it is true that he took care of it and he invested quite some money in his clothes, but just because he enjoyed it, he could easily get on without all that, and his style was persistent, never changing. But he was always learning, reading, searching for new things, developing his mind, he never neglected it. He was scandalised that night when he returned home and heard those sounds from upstairs, he wasn't a fool, he knew what was going on, and couldn't believe it; maybe because he wanted to make sure what he heard wasn't what he thought it was, or just out of some sort of teenage curiosity, he stood on the stairs, close to their room and listened. He felt sick because of what he was doing and also because of what he was hearing. He couldn't understand how carnal pleasure could actually influence him, why would the pleasure of the body count for him, well that version of him, but still him. He hated the other one for it, for breaking this belief about himself. Even when he had that argument with his double about sentiments, he didn't think it was more than just a slightly more intimate relationship than the one he had with him friend John. He presumed it meant just being close and maybe kiss every now and then, but still not because Sherlock wanted or needed them, but because John needed them. He realised then how little he knew of love and how little he knew of that other one that looks just like him. He saw the other like a fraud. He also hated the other John because he looked like the John he knew, so he was inclined to trust him, but always had to remind himself that he was the partner of the impostor.

                So as weeks passed things got worst, the hate and stress in that flat were so strong that it was surprising how the walls could hold all that tension. All until one evening; they all were in the living room, trying to keep themselves busy when a strange sound coming from outside made them stop what they were doing and go look on the window. There was a police box on the pavement.

                "Finally!" said Sherlock as he went out the door.

                "What is that?" John asked.

                "Hopefully, it is our ride home."

                So they followed the other Sherlock outside. The night wasn't very chilly anymore, summer was on it's way. As they got outside saw the other Sherlock talking to an old and tall man.

                "Oh no! You didn't say anything about that! The mere fact that you two are face to face could do a lot of bad stuff. What did you do?!"

                "We just ended up here, we were in a train to London and we just arrived in.. a different London."

                "Oh, so you are not from around as well.. This is bad, probably there is an interdimentional gap, it may still be open, and probably more people passed through it! Why didn't you tell me what was going on? I would have been here a few years earlier!"

                "Years?" asked John's Sherlock.

                "Why did it take you so long anyway, I told you we have and emergency! It was very clear. So many years that you are an old grumpy man!" said the other.

                "Not old, Scottish! Oh, and, anything can be an emergency! This is more than just that. In moments like this I wish time lords were still around, they used deal with this sort of things, making sure the time and space don't fall apart! We have to solve this, we wasted enough time, come on, let's go!" He said as pointed to the police box.

                "Just a few minutes, we have to take our stuff." said John as he ran upstairs and Sherlock followed.

                "I am glad you take them away from here, I can't stand that one that looks like me." said Sherlock when he and The Doctor remained alone.

                "But he is you! A different you! And you know, at times, you can't hate anyone as much as you hate yourself."

                "What is that supposed to mean?"

                "I think you already know, aren't you the smart one? Anyway, time to say goodbye!" John and Sherlock were coming back with their luggage. The Doctor went inside the Tardis and left the three men have their moment.

                "I hope you are happy, Sherlock." said John's Sherlock.

                "Yes, I am, with my decisions, not yours."

                "Good, I ask for nothing more."

                "Goodbye Sherlock, it was a strange adventure.. meeting you." said John.

                "Strange indeed! Well, goodbye then!" and so he took a step back and went inside. It was clear that he didn't want to see them anymore.

                The two opened the door of the police box and looked inside, it was huge, but on the outside it was just a very small wooden box.

                "Come in, we don't have forever!" shouted The Doctor.

                They went inside, and as they stepped further away from the door the entire thing seemed even bigger.

                "How can it be so big?" asked Sherlock.

                "Time lord technology." said The Doctor as he went around the big console in the middle pulling levers and pressing buttons.

                "What the hell is that?" asked John.

                "Never mind! How long have you been in the other dimension?"

                "Weeks, over a month even!" said John.

                "I supposed everyone will be happy to see you two after you've been gone for so long!" and as he said that he pulled one more lever and the strange sound began again. "We are moving." he said amused by the expressions on the faces of the two.

                Not long after The Doctor announced that they are back in their own dimension. John ran to the door and saw the Baker Street, just as it was a few minutes before.

                "Are you sure, looks the same." said John.

                "Yes, I am! You would better leave now, I can't stay here for long, that gap needs to be closed and also, someone has to bring the other lost people back in this dimension, probably your friends from the police had a lot of missing cases . Oh, and don't tell them about this!"

                "Thank you Doctor!" said Sherlock as he and John got out the Tardis. They stood at the door and watched as the police box vanished into thin air.

                When they went inside they found Mrs Hudson in her kitchen. She was both shocked and happy to see them, apparently they had been missing for a month, together with lots of other people, the police was talking about some terrorists being involved.

                "I thought you two are investigating it, but then your brother came around asking for you, Sherlock, a few weeks ago, then I began to worry, and so did he."

                "So my brother is worried?! Ha! That is something!"

                "Oh, come on! You know he cares about you!" John said.

                "Yes, about me and what I can do for him."

                They went upstairs, everything was as it should, they were really home.

                Sherlock texted his brother:

 

                                _Not dead. All missing people will be back too. Heard you missed me. - SH_  

               

                And slowly everything came back to normal, for everyone from both dimensions, but of course, it wasn't just an ordinary experience they could leave behind, it marked all of them, gave them new perspectives about themselves and about life. You can't live a paradox and pretend it was just another adventure, but it was also an adventure so amazing that would never make it on John's blog, it was a secret, and after all, who would believe it, sometimes even they couldn't believe it! But what mattered was that everyone was happy living the lives they chosen.

 

                                                                                                _Fin._

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing fanfiction, and discovered it is just as hard as writing original characters. One day I had this crazy idea and really wanted to share this with people! Plus, the Sherlock fandom is full of amazing human beings and this gave me the courage to post it. I would love and appreatiate to read your opinions in the comments. You can also find me on Tumblr as just-un4ngel, come say hi! I would love to meet more sherlockians!


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